.:+现在+:. ~心情: 害怕
~音乐: Lydia~

如果是我,我希望我会是最后一个人死的. 我不要任何人为了我而流泪. 我更不希望别人想念我. 但我知道,这是不可能的. 每个人的生命都会比某些人早死. 那我只能希望, 没有人为我哭泣. 我相信雨是女人的眼泪. 这是个很美丽的传说. 没有一个女人会没有为爱情哭过,那都是男人的错. 如果眼泪像雨一样,过一阵子就阳光普照,那该多好.

i went to watch "troy" just now. it's a touching story. i nearly cried, especially until the end. the father took the risk to go inside his enemy's camp just to get back his son's corpse. his courage is greatly admired. he knew that his son was a great warrior and that he had done his best to protect his country. but in the end, troy still fell into the hands of the greeks.

if i had a chance, i would change the ending. the most undeserved couple ended having each other, but the other admirable warriors were sacrificed because of them. it's very touching to see archilles died because of love. he could have won the war if not for saving his love.

"...They were convinced by the sudden passion that joined them... Certainty may the sweet, but uncertainty is more beautiful so..."

She taught me that poem by the Polish poet, whose name I never could seem to remember. And when I did try to pronounce it, she would always laugh that infectious laughter of hers.

Yes, it was love at first sight. No one could tell, for I never breathed a word about it until much later. From the very first moment I laid eyes upon her, I knew that she was the one. I was at the library reading Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. The sound of the ringing bell made me look up, as I watched her walk in with some other students. They found a corner to sit, not very far away from me. My friends would later chide me in frustration that she was nothing special, but I beg to differ! It was the way her fringe fell to her long curly eyelashes. Her cheeks boasted a natural blush. The way she smiled every so gently made her all the more enduring. Shakespeare seemed to stand beside me that very moment, whispering "A snowy dove treping with crows, have you not seen beauty till tonight?" I never did.

Later that day, after recess, she was introduced as our English teacher. The other boys were laughing within themselves, saying that she would quickly fall victim to our bullying techniques. I was boiling, but said nothing, looking at Beauty herself. Deep in my heart, I knew that I had to have her, and she felt the same way too. I had to find away to get closer to her, to know her, to be with her.

"Class, there will be an English research competition where you have to analyse poems. You have a deadline all the way until September and I can help you. Because it is an international competition, the grand prize will be $5000," said the sweet sound one day.

I was staring at her, and almost missed what she said. I blinked, and my arms automatically shot up.

"Yes, Alesander. Can I put your name down?"

"Err... Yes Ms Chin."

From then on, I saw her after school every day. But was it enough? No! I would start to feel fidgety and restless before English class and when she finally came, her arrival and presence became my tranquiliser. I exchanged my seats with one of the girls to be nearer to my beloved, and my eyes trained on her every movement. I could predict what she wore every day, carrying her cute pink pencil case, and what her next line would be. During recess, I would sit alone and look at her, fingers painfully yearning to touch her pretty face. And when the bell rang, I would go and look for her, and walk to the library to research together.

I could not write properly near her.

"Are you looking at me?" she asked, on the twentieth day we were researching.

"Huh! N...no..."

She laughed.

"Well you better not be. My boyfriend will be jealous that any student sees so much of me when he only goes out with me every week." She propped her chin on her palm. "Sometimes I miss him so much..."

That day, I cried as I tore all the photograph I painstakingly cut out from the school magazines. I threw away all the worksheets punctuated with her perfumed "Very good" and started to rip the love poems I wrote for her into little shreds. For the first time, I felt like tearing her apart with my bare hands. How could she do this to me? I loved her and she knew it! That woman actually betrayed me!

It took two whole weeks for me to calm down. When I did, I started to question myself. Perhaps she had done so in a bid to spur my passive heart on, and to rescue her from the creep she never loved, so I decided to take action.

I left flowers on her tidy little table, without any hint of my identity.

I left packets of green tea on her table for she drank it everyday.

I bought lozenges for her so she would not sound hoarse from all the teaching.

Which girl in history or time never craved romance from their leading man? I was persistent, firm even, when I slipped pages and pages of love stories about us into her file. We still continued to meet up for research and I would be so excited to see her. Would she know it was me? When could we start life together? I started to get bolder and touched her hand once, when I tried to borrow her pen. I knew we both were deeply in love.

It was 3 May 2004. A disgustingly bald teacher came to replace her.

"Why? What's wrong? Ms Chin nicer prettierr la," somebody said loudly. The whole class laughed. I was twitching, anger rising within. Where was she?

"Erm... take out textbook flip to..."

The class would not be laughing anytime soon again, as one of them opened up Straits Times to Home, Page Six that day. A certain Ms Chin leapt to her death, and she was found clutching her personal diary. She had written the words "LEAVE ME ALONE" so many times on it that some pages were slashed. Nobody had noticed.

Except for me.

here comes a piece of maple leaf =)
7:34 PM

here comes a piece of maple leaf =)
7:44 PM

here comes a piece of maple leaf =)
7:58 PM